NY ♥ Christmas

I suppose it's something of a love triangle. Walking around midtown, two things are very clear: tourists are like sheep (though generally less intelligent), and they love New York. Unfortunately, most tourists discover that New York doesn't feel the same; New York's heart belongs to another.

That other, it would seem, is Christmas. Obviously there's the giant tree in Rockafeller Center and the Christmas Spectacular with the Rockettes, but there's more to it than that. There are snowflake lights on light posts throughout the city. In some places, there are even stars and angels and the like suspended over and across the streets. It's very Christmasy. Then there's the trees. They're everywhere. It's great. I can't go anywhere without smelling doug fir and remembering my childhood. I'd love to get more specific and make witty comments about the various displays around town, but to be honest, the season has me so giddy I can't think about it much more without creating a disturbance in the library.

But what really gets me about Christmas in New York is that people here aren't afraid to actually call it Christmas. It amuses me that all the places I've lived before have been little white suburban towns chock full of WASPS, but for some reason everyone was afraid to wish each other a good old fashioned "Merry Christmas" instead of the bland and useless "Happy Holidays." But take a look at New York. It's second largest Jewish population center in the world (the largest outside Israel). It's got enough people with African heritag to make Kwanzaa more than an afterthought. It's the birthplace of Festivus. Yet here, people aren't afraid to say "Christmas." It boggles the mind.

If I continue writing at this point, my usually light hearted nonsense will turn into a rant about people assuming others are over-sensitive, political correctness, and whatever other topics get in the way. So instead I'll just say "Merry Christmas" before I spoil the Christmas spirit.

Merry Christmas to all